


The Morning After

by RyojiHirako



Series: Sol Invictus [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (But only Lucius and Severus), (but I mean really--is there any other Tom? lol), Death Eaters, Do Death Eaters get raises? Lucius probably thinks they should after all he had to do, M/M, Possessive Tom, Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Sane Tom Riddle, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24520159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyojiHirako/pseuds/RyojiHirako
Summary: Well.That went better than he expected.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Series: Sol Invictus [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767400
Comments: 46
Kudos: 686





	The Morning After

The Morning After

Sequel to _The Gentle Art of Making Enemies._

Flashbacks in _italics._

: : : : :

A long and fruitless search through the extremely large Manor didn't serve to make Lucius annoyed as much as it made him _worried._ He was Lord of Malfoy Manor...normally. But when the Dark Lord himself decides to make your place of residence where he stayed, it quickly becomes _his_ residence.

And not being able to find him, when he has important information for him, was _not_ an ideal situation. He'd certainly be the one to be blamed for it, even though he had genuinely been doing his best to find the Dark Lord. It had been...odd, this past little while, since the Dark Lord had first made himself known to all of them once more, in that dark graveyard.

While the Dark Lord had still doled out punishment to those he saw fit, he did not seem to be filled with the same... _enthusiasm_ that he had years before. He could only be grateful that Draco was not around for those times before; the dark and horrible things that happened at the Dark Lord's 'Court' were enough to leave even the most hardened of them shivering from nightmares even this many years past.

But the Dark Lord did not seem to be as reckless with his punishments as he once was. Even _thinking_ such a thing, however, was dangerous, so he tries to shy his thoughts away from that and onto other matters (because while the Dark Lord did not sift through the Death Eaters' minds too often anymore with Legilimency, there was still always the chance. Lucius thought himself a fairly strong Occulumens, especially having trained his skill further with the best Occulumens he knew, but Lucius would never discount the Dark Lord's utter power. It had been enough, years ago, to bring _any_ man to his knees and devote service to him, as Lucius once had.)

The usual haunts of the Dark Lord serve up no sight of him and the Dark Mark on Lucius' arm remains inert, as if a simple tattoo instead of the magical branding it was (and Lucius would never dare to use it to try and contact the Dark Lord, even if such a thing were possible. A Malfoy was many things and stupid was not one of them. The Malfoys were a family that had survived countless wars and Dark Lords and battles of the Light; they would always stand tall...albeit in the shadows. It was just their way.)

His nose wrinkles as he makes his way down to the dungeons. They were maintained regularly by the House Elves the same as the rest of the Manor, but as they were used as the main place for Potions work, they were often left with the scents from varying potions and experiments. Still, there are few places left in the Manor-even the secret places that only Malfoy blood should be able to enter into (not that he suspected that would stop someone like the Dark Lord)-that he has yet to have checked.

The main door to the Potions room is closed and he quickly raps on it with a hand in the woefully Muggle way (he didn't dare use his wand, as not knowing what was being worked on could create a volatile situation, should the magic somehow mix.)

There is a distinct pause, before the door slowly opens. He moves swiftly inside, closing the door behind him. It was a bit hazy from potions fumes, but not as full as it usually was. His eyes look at the tall form working the Cauldron with a frown.

"Ah, Severus." Lucius says. "Hard at work as always, I see."

Severus glances back at him, snorting briefly as he turns back to whatever he is working on.

"It would almost be worth the effort," Severus drawls. "To teach someone to become as skilled as I in concoctions such as this just so I would have less upon my back. But I fear the staff at Hogwarts would be a poor student. Not to mention the students themselves."

"Surely Draco is not so bad." Lucius chides, but in jest. There were few in the Inner Circle, much less all of the Death Eaters, that Lucius could stand to be around, much less truly consider them a _friend,_ but Severus was as much a friend to Lucius as he was to him; cautious but caring.

"A beacon in the midst of dunderheads." Severus agrees, eyes focusing upon the task in front of him. "But I know you haven't made your way down this far simply to talk praise of your only child, proud of him as I know you are. So what do you want?"

Severus was often blunt in ways that many were not, even counting the stupider of their lot like the Crabbe's and Goyle's. And Severus was far from stupid; he never would have been accepted so far into the Inner Circle if he was. The Dark Lord was notoriously mistrustful and so would trust very few into the deepest inner workings of the Death Eaters, much less to brew potentially dangerous potions and concoctions for him.

"I am looking for the Dark Lord." Lucius says. To speak so bluntly was also something he had picked up from Severus, though he still knew very well to only speak in such a way in Severus' presence or few others'.

"He is not in the Manor?" Severus asks. Surprisingly he looks more worried than he does than he does surprised.

Lucius shakes his head.

"Not that I can tell. I have searched everywhere-you know he prefers a personal visit."

If it had been anyone else, sending a House Elf to search would have sufficed, but the Dark Lord often did not operate in the usual way, leaving those under him to deal with his whims. And even if he _had_ sent them out now to look for him, the Dark Lord was unusually skilled at hiding his presence from House Elf magic.

"Is there something I should know?" Lucius asks Severus.

Severus shakes his head, eyes turning back to his task. "No, not as such. Just that the Dark Lord seems to be taking more trips than usual, since his resurrection."

Lucius glances at the door and back, but he knew he shouldn't be too worried about being overheard; Severus was a deft hand with spells (yet another reason why he had been accepted as such an important hand to the Dark Lord, given that spell crafting was such an exact-and extremely difficult-art that few learned much less mastered. And Severus had created many spells) and was sure to have spelled the area as needed.

And it _was_ true that the Dark Lord had been travelling more as of late; those last couple of years, before being 'defeated' by Harry Potter, he had been even more paranoid than he had been (though none would have said so or thought so in his presence) and hadn't ventured out himself for many tasks, not until personally going to the Potters' home (and meeting what many had thought had been his untimely demise.)

"He has not divulged anything to you?" Lucius inquires.

"No." Severus says, stirring the clear concoction (Veritaserum possibly? It was the most recognized clear colored potion but by no means was the only one) a few times before stepping back from it finally, seeming pleased-and finished-with it. He turns to Lucius to give him his full attention now. "You know he doesn't always bring any of us into his confidences, even those in the positions we are in."

"I know." Lucius agrees. "I had only hoped so, as it would have been much easier to find him. I have pressing information for him. I hadn't expected him to leave again so soon, after leaving yesterday."

"Not anymore dissension about the Azkaban plan, I hope. Or lack thereof." Severus says dryly.

It had been quite the shock when the Dark Lord had put a sudden halt on their plans to break free some of the Death Eaters that were still languishing in the Dementor guarded prison, especially as some of them, like Bellatrix, were some of his most ardent supporters. But none dared to argue.

"Not that I have heard, but you know some of that riff raff," Lucius says distastefully, referring to some of the lower ranked Death Eaters, who held little power in the group. "Usually hold their tongue when around me."

"No," Lucius continues. "It's about-"

But he doesn't get to finish his sentence when a ghosting like feeling moves over the Dark Mark on his arm (and by Severus' reaction, it had happened to him as well.)

"Well," Severus says, looking a bit disturbed, but stoic, moving past the odd moment (that had never happened before, as any summons or the like by the Dark Lord always came with a feeling of immense pain.) "It looks as though your search has ended on its own."

"Quite." Lucius says, still feeling a bit unnerved but pushes it back (he was a Malfoy, after all. It wouldn't do to look put out for _too_ long, where people might see it.) "I'll see you at dinner then? Or has the old man put you up to more things to do?"

Severus shakes his head. "Not at the moment. He's been rather...preoccupied as of late with something." It didn't sound like Severus was trying to hide anything as much as he seemed unsure of what Dumbledore's _preoccupation_ currently was. "I'll see you at dinner."

Lucius nods and swiftly takes his leave. While it didn't feel like a direct summons, it was still enough to know that the Dark Lord was near and that he didn't wish to keep him waiting any longer. He has no direct knowledge of where the Dark Lord is, but if he _had_ been gone and had returned there were a few usual haunts he would go to.

First is the main dining hall, where the Dark Lord had taken to lead the Death Eater meetings, which was bare. He hadn't been very happy to have to receive some of the Death Eaters into his home, but he would of course never voice these thoughts aloud.

Next he makes his way back to the back west wing to the few rooms the Dark Lord had specifically taken for his own. As always, he feels the warding of whatever magic that the Dark Lord had crafted around them but which still admitted Lucius inside (as far as he could tell it would admit him, Narcissa and possibly Draco as well as he shared both of their blood, without issue. Though he wasn't sure if it was blood magic driven wards or some other specially created wards the Dark Lord had thought up.)

But no, still no Dark Lord. Only the Dark Lord's familiar, Nagini, who was curled up asleep next to her Master's usual, if not favorite, chair in the library quarters he had also taken for himself. She does not stir at his arrival, which was not entirely usual but also not entirely _unusual_ either.

Before he fears he has to search the entire Manor _again,_ a half glance through one of the windows in the hallway leading back, showing the outside, catches his attention, making him stop. That glimpse in black…

He swallows, steeling himself and puts on his usual calm demeanor, before making his way outside to meet the Dark Lord Voldemort directly.

: : : : :

The peacocks, white in both fur and plumage, are not as much of a distraction as usual, though they are striking as always (never let it be said that Lucius Malfoy did not know how to make an impression upon people with things, after all.)

They do not distract him until they make their way quickly away from him on either side of him, as the Dark Lord approaches from the grounds. Lucius can only wonder, as he comes closer, where he's been (and wonders if he should even _want_ to know; the things that the Dark Lord could do-and learn-were numerous. And many of them things that even the most hardened of Death Eaters could rarely stomach so well. At least the things of old, from years before. While he was preparing himself for those sorts of things to happen again, after the Dark Lord's resurrection...he had yet to see any of those things.)

The Dark Lord all but glides upon the grass, his feet white and bare with their talon like nails, clothed as he usually was in large black robes that could give the impression of being basic until one truly looked closer and saw (and felt) the magic that imbued the threads. His face was pale and serpent like, with eyes like blood.

As always, the sight of him was both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

This was the man whom the whole of their world feared. A Magic man in the truest sense of the world, that radiated magic, radiated _power._ A man who had bypassed what so many of them knew as simple mortality and had become something...more.

As much as he often terrified Lucius with his presence, that power (not the terror that the Dark Lord could often craft but the _power)_ had been the thing to make him want to become a Death Eater in the first place. How anyone could not be drawn to power such as the Dark Lord crafted...he could scarcely fathom such a thing.

He immediately takes a knee, taking no heed of the dewy grass (though he'd certainly grimace over it later in private) as the Dark Lord comes to stand before him.

"Ah, Lucius." The Dark Lord says, his voice the high hiss Lucius had since gotten used to as his now usual voice. "I am to be so greeted like this every time I return? I feel like I should be flattered."

"My Lord." Lucius says respectfully.

"Rise, Lucius. I wish to make my way inside."

Lucius does swiftly, though he still keeps his eyes respectfully off of the Dark Lord's face.

"My Lord." He says again. "I have news."

"Then let us speak of it as we go inside."

"I would, My Lord, but I fear it best to speak of it somewhere more...private."

A pause. Lucius starts to tense, already prepared for the _Crucio_ that is sure to come his way, a reflex born of years of the Dark Lord's 'whims' as those years he had been a bit more...unhinged.

But nothing comes. Astonished, though he is sure to keep it off of his face, he lifts his eyes. The Dark Lord gestures forward with a large pale hand, also talon like in its nails though perhaps more elegant.

So, instead of Lucius talking about the information, as they make their way into the Manor, he instead ventures to speak of other matters, feeling slightly emboldened by the lack of reprisal from the Dark Lord.

"I have other news I can speak of however, My Lord, should you wish to hear it." Lucius says.

Another gesture in the affirmative is enough for Lucius to continue, still reeling from the lack of action on the Dark Lord's part moments earlier.

"The Ministry has decided to act more directly at Hogwarts this year." Lucius says, as they make their way down one of the side hallways that led the quickest way to the Dark Lord's rooms.

"In what way?"

The news had come to him only this morning, otherwise he'd have spoken it to the Dark Lord earlier, but as with the other pressing information, he hadn't been able to find him.

"Though Fudge is still taking the stance that you do not _exist,"_ Lucius says, with a twist to his mouth in disgust. Fudge having become Minister at _all_ had been a disgrace to the wizarding world, much less that he had been allowed to _stay_ in power as long as he had. "They still have decided upon sending one of their own, Umbridge, to take the open Defense Against The Dark Arts position."

He pauses, waiting for a reaction. Oftentimes the Dark Lord would laugh when the position was spoken of, though Lucius was not sure just _what_ was so amusing sometimes (perhaps just the fact of the _Defense_ part being in the school subject.)

And continues to wait, but the Dark Lord does not speak. It isn't until they reach his rooms and the Dark Lord takes a seat, that he makes even a sound. He lets out a small sigh as he touches Nagini, stroking her head. She looks up at the Dark Lord sleepily for a moment before going back to sleep as he continues to stroke her.

"Is it already finalized?"

Lucius takes a knee near the chair, head down in deference as he had minutes earlier.

"I am not sure." Lucius admits. "I would assume not, as Dumbledore loathes Ministry involvement in the school."

"One of the few things we share in kind." The Dark Lord says, to Lucius' shock, making him look up at him without thinking. He seems a bit lost in thought, continuing to stroke Nagini as his eyes gaze ahead at nothing in particular.

After a moment a hand moves to his mouth, looking even deeper in thought.

"Perhaps an accident is in order?" The Dark Lord says aloud.

"An...accident, My Lord?" Lucius hesitantly asks. Once more though, no _Crucio_ flies his way at his interruption. "If you would like something arranged-"

"Or an impersonation?" The Dark Lord continues, as if Lucius hadn't spoken. "Perhaps. Perhaps… Barty had done a rather good job last year, hadn't he, Lucius?"

"I...yes, yes of course." He _had_ done a good job teaching, Lucius thought begrudgingly, though he still held no love for him for what he had done to his son (bouncing him _around_ as a ferret! The absolute _nerve-)_ when under the guise of Alastor Moody.

"Poor Barty. Few have been such an exceptional person in my service." The Dark Lord says, wistfully. His attention suddenly turns to Lucius, leaving him to nearly freeze as those blood red eyes are directly on his now. He hastens to lower his eyes once more. "No, Lucius. You shall look at me as you speak."

"Yes, My Lord." He says. He hesitates but speaks up again. "About the Ministry, My Lord…?"

The Dark Lord sighs, removing his hand from Nagini, seemingly too agitated to do even that action now.

"What to do indeed…" The Dark Lord murmurs. He looks back at Lucius. "Roll up your sleeve, Lucius."

He does so, automatically rolling up the sleeve on the arm that held the Dark Mark. He tenses slightly as the Dark Lord's hand approaches, but there is no pain as he touches the Dark Mark, though Lucius is certain that he has used a Summons of some sort.

Satisfied, the Dark Lord sits back in his chair, leaving Lucius to roll his sleeve back down as a knock on the door happens moments later. The Dark Lord waves a hand and the door opens and Lucius is slightly surprised to see Severus. Well they _were_ just talking about things to do with the School, so perhaps he shouldn't be overly surprised.

Severus comes up, taking the same kneeling position that Lucius had upon arrival.

"I have come in haste, My Lord." Severus says respectfully.

"Raise your head, Severus as you speak to me."

There is only the barest moment of pause-a sign of surprise, Lucius knew-before he does so, facing the Dark Lord as Lucius was.

"Lucius has just told me that the Ministry plans to bring in one of their own to Hogwarts for the school year." The Dark Lord's voice is soft, but it's clear that he isn't happy.

Severus nods, showing no fear on his face (few in their group, even Lucius, could hold a poker face as well as Severus could when facing the Dark Lord.)

"I have only just learned recently as well, My Lord." Severus says. "The news has not gone over favorably well at Hogwarts."

"And if something were to prevent Umbridge from taking up the position, do you expect the Ministry to put up another name?" The Dark Lord asks him.

This gives even Severus pause, showing a bit of surprise on his usually stoic face.

"I...am not sure, My Lord." Severus says slowly. "From what I gathered, they wanted a presence in the school rather strongly."

"Fudge is scared." The Dark Lord says rather bluntly. "He is afraid of his own shadow at this point no doubt."

"What would you like?" Severus asks after a moment, caution in his tone.

"I would hear what you have to say, Severus." The Dark Lord says, apparently not noticing the astonishment in Severus' eyes, nor the astonishment that must be in Lucius' own. It had been forever and an age when the Dark Lord had taken true council from anyone.

"Of course." Severus says swiftly, as if not as surprised as he must feel. "Would you like me to speak to Dumbledore and learn what plans with the Ministry are?"

"Would you be able to speak to him quickly?" Lucius inquires. "You said he had been preoccupied?"

Severus nods, with the Dark Lord looking more interested now. "He has the Order able to send messages to one another, especially at haste. Even were he not in Hogwarts I would assuredly be able to speak to him."

"That may be the action you will take," The Dark Lord says. "But first, both of you, tell me what you know of what else the Ministry plans to do or has been doing."

"Regretfully, that is all that I know yet, My Lord." Severus says.

"I have heard that Fudge plans to do some smear campaign against Potter and Dumbledore soon." Lucius says. It was rather pedestrian, in his opinion, but Fudge had since proven himself to be an incompetent Minister For Magic.

The Dark Lord seems to sit up a bit straighter at his words.

"What did you just say?" The Dark Lord asks in a soft hiss.

Lucius tenses a bit, unsure now, with a bit of the tone change in the Dark Lord. "Some of my usual contacts say he plans to employ the _Daily Prophet_ to discredit what Potter said at the end of the term."

Abruptly the Dark Lord turns away from them, a hand moving back to pet Nagini in what seemed to be some sort of agitated state.

"Can you gain an audience with Fudge?" The Dark Lord asks suddenly.

"With Fudge?" Lucius asks, a bit nonplussed. "I should be able to arrange a meeting within the next few-"

"Today." The Dark Lord whispers.

"I...My Lord," Lucius says, unable to keep the stammer out of his voice. "I am...not entirely sure I could-"

" _Today,_ Lucius." The Dark Lord says, his free hand in a tight grip on his chair.

Although the Dark Lord had shown more restraint today than he had in an age, Lucius had the sense that if he pushed it further, then there _would_ be punishment to be had.

He bows deeply, even though the Dark Lord is not looking in their direction.

"It will be done, My Lord." Lucius assures him. But he still finds himself hesitating. "About what I needed to tell you-"

"Severus," The Dark Lord says abruptly, his eyes glancing back over at them, focusing on the Potions Master. "Should the Ministry's...efforts...to gain an extra foothold in Hogwarts this year not go their way, what is Dumbledore's plan for the post?"

"He has not said. He often," Severus' mouth twists in a smile that looked more like a grimace than a real smile. "Likes to surprise everyone with who he chooses."

"No doubt." Lucius says, snorting a bit, as it felt like some of the tension was loosening up from the room. "A foppish man in Lockhart, a _werewolf_ in Lupin _,_ and well, who he _thought_ was Alastor Moody."

"And if you were to volunteer yourself for the position?" The Dark Lord asks Severus. "You have long wanted the post, have you not?"

"I have." Severus says. "But...My Lord, I would never dare to question your judgment, but the post is said to be-"

"Cursed." The Dark Lord says. He smiles and the sight is both as disturbing as it is surprising. It wasn't the manic kind of smile from before that might grace his face. "I know. But you need not worry about that. I ask you now, Severus. If the Ministry's plan to gain a foothold fails, would you be the one to take the post?"

"Yes." Severus says immediately, his black eyes glittering with an excitement that he often did not show. Lucius knew how much Severus longed for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts since becoming a teacher at Hogwarts. "It would not...delay or hinder anything you might want if I was allowed to take the post and step away from the Potions position?"

"So long as you could continue on as you have in your brewings outside of the school, Severus, then a change in post will hurt nothing. Now," The Dark Lord says. "In an hour's time, I want you to go to the school, gain an audience with Dumbledore and tell him that you will take the post."

He can see the question in Severus' eyes at the amount of time, but they both know a dismissal when they hear it. Severus bows as deeply as Lucius had and makes his way out, closing the door firmly behind him, the wards-whatever they were-going back in place as he does so. The Dark Lord now turns to Lucius.

"Your news, Lucius?"

He is briefly unnerved as Nagini's head, her tongue flicking out, looks at him, before she turns back to the Dark Lord.

"The Vault has been sifted through, My Lord." He whispers. This had been a Mission which Lucius, though he knew not what the value of the item was to the Dark Lord, knew was more important than any he had ever given him. And after his disastrous fumble with the Diary, well...he would have done almost anything to make up for the oversight. "What you have required has been received."

A large pause and the hand stroking Nagini seems to...tremble? But no, he must have been seeing things.

"It is safe?" The Dark Lord asks quietly.

"Under the greatest wards I could think of, My Lord. And wards from Narcissa and Severus as well."

With a flourish of his wand, a sphere appears in midair, of what looked like fogged over glass. And with another move of his wand, he transfigures a table, laying the sphere onto it with the greatest care he can do. The Dark Lord's eyes seem to all but _gleam_ from within. He starts to move his wand once more, to start to remove the wards, but he gets stopped by a large, pale hand.

"I will take it from here." The Dark Lord says. Lucius feels another dismissal, like there had been with Severus and bows. "And Lucius?"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"An audience with Fudge. The place does not matter." The Dark Lord says, his red eyes looking at Lucius full of seriousness. " _Today."_

Lucius swallows and bows again. "Yes, My Lord."

: : : : :

His eyes do not leave the sphere, not watching, only hearing, Lucius leaving the room.

" _What is it?"_ Nagini asks, having been watching the events of the past few minutes in a sleepy silence.

As always, being near her, one of his Horcruxes, gave him a sense of...not quite peace, but something akin to it. One of the few things to have soothed him during his days of madness, before his resurrection. Before blood and _bonds_ with Harry Potter had changed so many things.

Harry…

But no, he cannot think of him now. Not just yet. Not when there was much to be done.

In response to her question he reaches his hands forward, his magic pulling apart the wards like they were taffy, stretching and stretching before they break, the pieces of the magical glass falling into harmless dust as they go flying.

Upon the table sat a small, but decorative Cup.

" _Life."_ He hisses.

: : : : :

If there was anything one Cornelius Fudge, current Minister For Magic, would not have expected to find, would be to find that the one person who he had denied had returned, would be sitting, waiting for him, sitting across a table where a tray of tea sat waiting.

But here he was.

Fudge cries out and takes out his wand, but his hand is too shaky to do anything, much less cast a spell, so no spell of silence or the like is used against him.

"Sit, Cornelius." Voldemort says, mildly. "It is rude to stand when others are sitting."

"Y-You." Fudge says weakly. But no, this must be some sort of _trick._ This _could not be!_

He had always admired the leadership skills and magical abilities of Albus Dumbledore. And had admired and pitied Harry Potter. But though they had no reason to have lied, he knew, he could not believe it. Not the peace they had fought for and bled for and _killed_ for, for thirteen years. He could not abide the thought. So they _had_ to have been lying. Because to believe otherwise…

But he could not pretend they were lying now, not when the grotesque sight of Lord Voldemort sat before him, pouring a cup of tea as if without a single care in the world.

" _Sit,_ Cornelius." Voldemort says, his tone more brisk and impatient now.

He feels his legs move-whether doing so without thinking or through Voldemort's magic he was not sure-and sits in the chair across from him.

"What do you want?" Fudge asks heavily. He doesn't know how to address him. He is too cowardly to speak the name Voldemort aloud, but it also seemed foolish to address him directly as You Know Who or He Who Must Not Be Named.

"So _blunt!"_ Voldemort tuts. "Has no one taught you to curb your tongue in front of your betters, Cornelius? Just what have they been teaching at Hogwarts since I last stepped foot there?"

"Ah, but." Voldemort says after a moment, with a horrid smile, after Fudge doesn't say anything. "You have been keen on Hogwarts and some of its occupants as of late, haven't you?"

All he can do is swallow and stare at him, even as a large pale hand pushes a cup of tea forward.

"Drink." Voldemort says, his eyes turning mean while the smile remains. "It is not poisoned, I assure you."

That did _not_ assure him, but he does not know what else to do (and he needed something to do with his hands) so he carefully picks up the tea, surprised at the fragrance wafting from it, as it was a brew most often liked by the younger crowd of witches and wizards.

"But not only that," Voldemort continues. "I hear that you have some _written_ pieces for the _Daily Prophet_ set to come out soon?"

"I…" Fudge says.

" _Speak."_ Voldemort says, eyes flashing. "Or I will rip the thoughts from your head. And I assure you, that will be a much more painful process than sitting here and having _tea."_

"Yes." Fudge squeaks out. "I am."

"Of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter?"

"Yes!"

"You will stop them from coming out at once." Voldemort says, to Fudge's utter shock.

"I...will?"

"Yes, you _will."_ Voldemort hisses. "No piece will be spoken about Harry Potter, do you understand me? Or I will kill everyone that works for the _Daily Prophet_ and I will kill everyone you care for before I kill _you. Do you understand me?"_

"Yes." He cries out. Terror. True fear. His greatest nightmares sat right in front of him right now, under the guise of tea and madness. "I promise."

"You will swear. You will _Vow._ This _I_ promise you." Voldemort says. The power from him is so palpable that it dries Fudge's throat. This here was the only equal, if not perhaps greater, than Albus Dumbledore.

"But that is not all I _ask_ of you." Voldemort says mockingly. "Because I also hear that you plan to have one of your own in place at Hogwarts this year, to take up the Defense post. Answer me quickly!"

"Yes!" He says swiftly. "Dolores Umbridge."

Voldemort's eyes narrow. "I know her by reputation, but she is nothing that I care about. You will not bring anyone into the Post. You will not introduce whatever plans you had for Hogwarts this year. You will keep your nose out of Hogwarts business or I will flay you alive. Do you understand?"

He spoke of _flaying_ as easily as one did the weather. It was beyond horrifying.

He nods. "Yes. Yes, I understand!"

But he was letting Fudge leave? Oh god, Dumbledore and Potter had been right. Too right. He had to warn. Had to-

"And now you will make a Vow." Voldemort says. "Or you will never leave this place alive."

Voldemort stands and banishes the tea with a hand, leaving Fudge scrambling back against his seat in terror as he approaches.

"Stand."

Perhaps he does not do so quickly enough, because this time he _does_ feel himself being pulled by Voldemort's magic.

As if by cue, Lucius Malfoy, who had been the one to lead him here, comes back into the room and stands in front of them and Fudge instantly realizes what's going on.

"An Unbreakable Vow?" He asks weakly. "If-if you are letting me leave, then why not just _Obliviate_ me?"

"Because, you stupid man," Voldemort says. "Then how could I be assured that what you have been tasked to do-or not do, as the case may be-will have been done correctly? You will go into this with full knowledge. Now be silent until you are told to speak."

Malfoy takes his wand and carefully wraps a binding around Voldemort and Fudge's hands, leaving Fudge uncomfortably close to a man made from nightmares made flesh. A fire like rope starts to bind around their hands.

"Will you retract your written words to the _Daily Prophet?"_

A beat and he quails a bit under the dark looks of Voldemort and Malfoy.

"I will." He squeaks.

"Will you keep Umbridge and any other Ministry influence out of Hogwarts for this year and for the foreseeable future while you are Minister?"

"I will." He tries not to shake, but knows he is failing miserably.

"Will you keep the knowledge of having spoken to Lord Voldemort this day to yourself, never to tell another about it?"

"I will."

"Will you keep the knowledge of what Lucius Malfoy has done this day to yourself, never to tell another about it?"

"I will."

"Will you keep the knowledge that Lord Voldemort is alive to yourself?"

"I will."

"Will you keep the knowledge that Lucius Malfoy is under my service to yourself?"

"I will."

"Will you promise to not to try and find a way around these Vows you have submitted yourself to, to try and tell anyone of what has transpired or what has been asked of you?"

He trembles but nods. "I-I will."

And just like that, it was over. Voldemort moves away once the Vow is in place, looking rather unruffled despite the magic that had just been done, looking up at Fudge.

"You will go and take care of all these things now, do you understand?" Voldemort says. "I do not care what else you need to take care of. This takes immediate priority."

He nods again, swallowing against his dry throat, looking down.

"I-I understand." He wilts under his own cowardice, but he cannot look at Voldemort.

"That will be all, Lucius." Voldemort says.

Malfoy bows respectfully. "Yes, My Lord." He turns to Fudge. "This way, Fudge."

"Ah, one more thing, Cornelius." Voldemort says, once Fudge and Lucius are nearly to the door. "I did not put you under Vow for this, but know that if you try and circumvent the Vow by speaking of Lucius' family or relatives or associates as a way around it, I will flay your _wife_ first. Do you understand?"

He nods frantically. "Yes, yes. I swear I won't-"

The door closes behind him.

: : : : :

Well. That went better than he expected.

But _really._ To think he'd actually _flay_ somebody! It was so...messy. He had never liked messes, even when he was younger. His schoolmates had been quick to learn cleaning charms and the like when spending time around him. And yet…

_He looks down at Harry, eyes flashing with hunger and need, wanting to swipe his hand through Harry's come and taste him, but he is too far gone to stop moving against him now, thrusting forward, reaching for him in his mind without even thinking-_

He sits back in his chair, eyes closing, his hands folded against his falsely concave stomach (glamours quickly lost their appeal but he had magic enough to hold one for ages, as he would until he was in more secure locations), his body relaxing once his thoughts turn to much more pleasant ones.

Should he tell Harry of what had just occurred? He likely wouldn't have approved of Tom threatening to flay someone, but surely he would approve of the Ministry not interfering at Hogwarts; it was too important a place. Though he did not know yet all the memories (the good ones anyhow) that Harry had at the school, they were both too alike, both orphans, to not have felt like it was the first _real_ place for either of them.

It was fine to think of Harry now. The most important tasks were done for this day; it would have been too distracting earlier. And anyway, everything had been done for Harry.

" _Tom." He sees Harry's throat work. "B-Bonded."_

To be so Bonded to someone. A thought Tom would have loathed before. And now...so much more to discover! To _do!_ The possibilities were endless. To have the time to learn all that made up Harry James Potter…

To be called _Tom_ again, something no one who knew of his birth name, save for Dumbledore, dared to call him. It had always been a name of loathing for him, for a father who had abandoned him and his pregnant mother. A _Muggle._ To be so reminded of him…

But from Harry it did not sound so repugnant. A name to be spoken in such a way from whom he was _Bonded_ with...it was not such a bad thing then. So Tom he would be, if only to Harry.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

But that was not _the_ end. No, this was only the beginning. And Tom was ever insatiable in his curiosity as much as he was in his thirst for knowledge.

And now his thirst for Harry.

: : : : :

**Author's Note:**

> I did NOT intend for the fic to be in Lucius' POV in the beginning, but I'm actually glad it ended up that way. I have never written in his POV before and it was fascinating to get an insight into his character in a way I had not before. 
> 
> Same with the sort of Fudge POV as well. Interesting to see how different people in the fic see Tom, including Tom himself, though he isn't as introspective about himself as much as he is pining (though he doesn't realize exactly that he is pining) for Harry again already. They're both alike in that regard, I guess lol.
> 
> Also...oops? Already another fic for the series? I can say with 100% certainty that I have not been this energized to work on anything in _ages._
> 
> Part Three of the series will be the biggest part so far and get into Harry and co's school year (unless I get an idea for a fic before that point which will be Part Three.) Regardless, there will be a big part of the series. 
> 
> Would love to see what you all think of this and what's to come!


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